Reviewer:
tambora
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July 11, 2004
Subject:
The name is exactly right.
When I listen to "Christmas in New York," time stops.
Time stops as I stare into my computer screen. Whatever I was doing can wait.
Time stops and it's Christmas, the happiest and most heartbreaking time of year.
Time stops and I'm in New York, and it's cold and windy, and I'm walking past cavernous skyscapers and in the warm glow of every color of Christmas light. I am alone, yet I'm content. As snowflakes swirl around me, I realize that this Christmas was nothing that I expected, but as I imagine the joy coming to the families, friends, and lovers in the apartments hundreds of feet above me, and as I remember the bittersweet moments of Christmases past, a long thin grin stretches across my face.
And time stops. If only for a moment, time stops. And as I stroll down the deserted sidewalk, I hear a lonely guitar playing in the distance, and I walk toward it.